


Still Looking Up

by aewgliriel



Series: The Light That's Leading Me [3]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Pregnancy, Romance, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-21 17:53:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9560348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aewgliriel/pseuds/aewgliriel
Summary: Nearly a year after Scarif, Jyn and Cassian have found their balance with each other, but changing circumstances make them reevaluate their roles in the Alliance.





	1. Chapter 1

_Base Lenth_   
_Lah’mu_   
_The Outer Rim_

  
As far as Jyn was concerned, Cassian Andor was a miracle worker.

When she'd stood on her family's farm and watched the Alliance ships go by overhead, she'd regretted bringing them to Lah'mu, suddenly afraid that they would tear it, and the last thing she had of her family, apart. But Cassian convinced them to leave the old Erso place to the tiny Andor family--slipping in the news of their marriage with a casualness Jyn would never have managed--and the rest of them took over the nearby, abandoned farming community.

The first night they'd spent under the roof of the refurbished house, Jyn had lain awake in the room that had been her parents’ and been unable to sleep. The brothers had painted over what fire damage they couldn't scrub away, had cleared out the wildlife and made the house livable again. And when Jyn couldn't sleep because of all the ghosts of things she'd thought she'd forgotten crowding in her brain, Cassian pulled her close, whispered, “It's alright, let it go,” and calmed the storm in her head.

Their first week there, she had led Cassian and Torean to the bunker in the cave and they had brought the long-term storage supplies out, carrying them to the house. Neither were experienced with construction, but the house had been built to withstand the elements on Lah'mu and other than the fire damage and the lichen growing on the walls, it was livable within two weeks.

Six months on, after the rest of the Alliance had arrived and settled into the abandoned farming community spread around them to the north, Jyn stood at the cleared landing field and waited for the _Stormrunner_ , her brother-in-law’s ship, to arrive. Cassian and his brother had been away for three weeks, to a planet where females were slaves. It had been decided for Jyn's safety that she would stay at the base and help the rebels sort through her father's data about his farming attempts. She'd reluctantly agreed, not because she was afraid, but because she'd wanted the chance to go through his ancient, encrypted files.

Frankly, she was surprised the Empire hadn't destroyed or confiscated his work. But then, farming had clearly not interested them. And the Rebels needed a self-dependent food source.

Galen Erso hadn't been a good farmer. But someone could use his data, surely. The winter was nearly over, though snow still blanketed the ground even here, near the ocean, and planting would begin soon. They hoped, anyway.

Jyn pulled her coat closer around her and stamped her feet to keep the blood flowing. She could have waited inside, where it was warm, but she was impatient to see her husband. It was funny that, after spending so long alone, she had lost the ability to sleep in an empty bed since Cassian. He had reshaped her whole life for the better.

She didn’t feel she really had a place in the Rebellion, even after this long. She’d joined for him, not for the cause, though she did believe in that.

 _”If you’ve found a quiet life somewhere, that is enough.”_  Her father’s words to her, in the message they’d gone to Jedha so many months ago to retrieve, echoed in her head as she watched the _Stormrunner_ cut through the low-hanging clouds. Galen had died never knowing what her life was like, and she actually found she preferred that. He’d never had to know what she’d been left to, and though she’d been furious with him, had hated him for so many years for leaving her, when he’d died all of that had fallen away. He’d clung to hope for her, and the thought of him being disillusioned made her heart hurt.

But it was better now. She had Cassian and Torean, her new little family, and she was happier than she’d ever been.

The ship settled with a puff of air out of the hydraulics, and the boarding ramp lowered. Jyn scurried up it, not waiting for the men to exit. Cassian waited at the top and he engulfed her in his arms the second she was within reach, hugging her so tightly that she nearly couldn’t breathe.

“Let’s not do that again,” he said to the top of her head.

“I agree.” She raised her head and he kissed her deeply.

Jyn wasn’t prone to romantic flights of fancy or girlish things, but when Cassian kissed her, her heart soared. It was funny to think that they’d nearly despised each other, despite the sexual tension, when they’d first met nearly a year before. She loved him so much that it felt overwhelming sometimes. She’d hated being apart because she wasn’t there with him, to watch his back. If he’d died and she wasn’t there, she’d never have forgiven herself.

“I missed you,” he told her as he drew back, murmuring the words against her mouth. “So much.”

“So did I,” she breathed.

“If you two are done letting the cold air in and attempting to suck each other’s faces off…”

Jyn laughed and sighed as Cassian let her go. She reached over to close the ramp. Cassian took her hand and pulled her into the lounge, where Torean was gathering up datapads and a few other things.

“You two are late, you know,” she told them. “You were supposed to be back a week ago. I’ve spent the last fifteen days going through some very boring journals of my father’s about his farming attempts. I loved the man, but holy Force, was that dull.”

“Complications arose,” Cassian told her, “ensued, and were overcome. One of which was an Imperial blockade we had to go the long way around. I should go debrief Draven before he gets angry.”

She gripped his hand tight. “Have you learned anything yet about who leaked my identity to the Empire?” she asked softly.

Cassian shook his head. His hair needed a cut, and fell into his eyes. He brushed at it impatiently. “No,” he told her, in that accent she loved so much. “Nothing. None of my contacts know who gave them that information. That worries me.”

“Same,” she murmured.

His commlink went off. He dug it out of his jacket pocket. “Andor.”

“Captain Andor, I saw your ship come in. If you’ve finished greeting Sergeant Andor, please come to my office.”

Cassian rolled his brown eyes. “Yes, sir.”

He ended the comm call and shoved the ‘link back in his pocket. “Speaking of,” he sighed. “I’ll make it quick.”

Torean handed him the stack of datapads. “We’ll finish here,” he told his younger brother. Technically, Torean outranked Cassian, but as the more experienced Intelligence agent, Cassian was the one in charge. Tor had been a pilot before losing half of his leg and his partner, General Antoc Merrick, at Scarif.

Cassian heaved a sigh and left. Jyn turned to her brother-in-law and arched a brow.

“I have a feeling you were getting rid of him,” she said.

“You’d be right,” he said. “Come look.”

She followed him to his cabin, which was across the lounge from the one she shared with Cassian when they were aboard. With an exaggerated flourish, Torean gestured to a lumpy object about a metre tall under an ugly canvas tarp.

“Ta-da!”

She furrowed her brow at him and pulled the tarp off. Under it was an Imperial astromech droid, a C5 model if she wasn’t mistaken. It was presently in several pieces, the dome detached but resting on the stocky cylindrical body.  
“It’s a droid,” she said.

“I couldn’t get my hands on a KX,” he told her. “I still don’t know how Cassian managed that little trick the first time. But as a temporary home for our former murder droid, I thought this would do.”

Jyn had to laugh. “Oh, he’s going to blow a fuse when he finds out.”

“But,” Torean pointed out, “he will be around to be angry.”

“That is very true.”

She bent to replace the tarp, and was hit with a wave of vertigo that had her grabbing the droid to keep from falling over. “Oh, not good,” she muttered.

“Jyn? Are you alright?”

Jyn let him help her upright. The dizziness was already fading, though she still felt lightheaded. “I’m alright. Been a bit under the weather. Can you help me back to the house?”

“Go sit in the lounge. I’ll finish getting everything.”

She wasn’t up to arguing, could only feel grateful that Cassian hadn’t been present for it. She had to talk to him, but she wasn’t looking forward to it in the slightest.

Finally, Torean emerged from his cabin with his flight bag. He fetched Cassian’s from where he’d left it on the bench near Jyn’s seat. “Will you be alright to walk?”

“It’s not far. I haven’t fallen over yet. Please don’t mention this to Cassian.”

“I won’t. But you had better.”

“As soon as he gets home.”

She stood and carefully made her way down the ramp. It was a ten minute walk from the field near the base itself--which was a laughable term, really, given that the “base” was a collection of prefab buildings on what had been a small cluster of farms. Jyn didn’t know where the original colonists had gone, the people that she and her parents had known before. There’d been a few hundred of them, she’d thought, but when they’d arrived here six months before, there’d been no one and everything was abandoned.

 _Maybe_ , she thought darkly, _the Empire killed them all_.

The house was up a slight rise and then sunken into the ground, round in shape with a recessed door. The roof was domed, the exterior white. The interior was a little dark, the walls stuccoed a light tan colour. The main living space was lit by a single round track light.

Back in their small farmhouse, Jyn cranked up the heat a little and put some caf on. The house didn’t have much. Besides the two bedrooms, there was a living area with the old table that had been left here from before, a kitchen area that had needed new appliances, and a refresher. There had been a long, curved sofa, but the damp and time had destroyed it and the mattresses, the curtains. Jun had some skill in clothing repair--not construction--so she’d managed to sew some random panels of fabric into curtains for the two bedrooms. The windows were high, and it hadn’t been a problem when the Ersos had lived here because her family had been so isolated, but since they actually got visitors and the windows could be looked into now, she’d hung the ugly curtains.

Lyra would have been appalled.

There was also her father’s lab and workshop out back, but Jyn hadn’t spent much time in there. She’d pointed the Alliance technicians to it and left them to do as they would. It wasn’t as if her family’s darkest secret hadn’t already been exposed to the whole galaxy. And blown up. Literally.

Torean set Cassian’s bag beside their bedroom door and retreated into his own room, the one that had been hers once upon a time. When they’d first moved in, she’d gathered the old things from her childhood that had been abandoned there and put them in a crate. Her parents’ things, too, had gone into boxes. She had yet to sort them, didn’t know if she’d ever be able to. Most of it had just gone in the garbage, anyway, destroyed by time and mold.

She wasn’t very domestic. Her mother had been, but Jyn had only been eight when she died. She was twenty-two now, soon to be twenty-three, and she could work a reheater and boil water. That was about it on her cooking skills. The men were actually better at it than she, but they’d had a fairly stable upbringing with their foster family. She’d been raised by extremist rebels more concerned with attacks on the Empire than on teaching a young girl basic skills. She could break down or put together a blaster in seconds, could kill a man at least twelve different ways with her bare hands. But everything else had been neglected.

Saw hadn’t known what to do when she hit puberty and had her first period. It had been excruciatingly embarrassing at the time, but looking back on it, the expression of horror on his face had been worth the trauma. He’d made one of the few women in the group teach her the basics. She’d gotten the sex talk then, too, which had consisted of the mechanics of tab a and slot b, and the comment, “It’s fun, but don’t get pregnant.”

“Hey, Jyn?”

She glanced up from the mug of caf she was pouring as Torean came out of his room, holding something in his hand. “What?”

“I think this is yours.”

He tossed it towards her and Jyn caught it with one hand. She nearly dropped it in shock, seeing that it was one of her old dolls, this one a plastic Dressellian. That was likely the only reason it was still intact. The plush toys had been nothing but rotted scraps.

“Oh,” she said. “I haven’t seen this in years.”

“It was under the bed, up against the wall. I was putting my blaster rifle away when I saw it.”

“Thank you,” she said softly.

He nodded and returned to his room, shutting the door behind him.

Jyn turned the doll over in her hands. It was funny that this was the one toy left from her childhood. She and Cassian had been married six months before, on Dressel. She’d even thought of this doll then, not knowing it was here, waiting.

She took it into the bedroom, grabbing Cassian’s flight bag on the way. It was this very bag that, almost nine months ago, she’d raided and stolen his blaster from. She’d lied to his face about where she’d got it. Grinning at the memory of the look on his face, she set the bag by their tiny closet and then took the doll over to her nightstand, setting it down beside the holocube that contained images of her parents. Beside that was the single holo taken at her own wedding. It was the only holo she had of herself, she realised, outside of her various falsified IDs.

The front door opened and she sighed, dreading the next few minutes. Better to get it over with, she figured, and went out to greet Cassian.

He was just shrugging out of his coat to hang it on one of the hooks embedded into the wall by the door, beside hers. She picked up the mug of caf she’d poured and took it to him.

“Thank you,” he said, wrapping his hands around it. “It’s snowing again.”

She made a face. “I was hoping the last one was, you know, the last one. How did the debrief go?”

“Fine. Wasn’t much to report. They’re happy with the Empire, which is happy to encourage their slavery of their women. It’s absolutely disgusting what they do there and for a few moments, I wished I had the Death Star to blow it to pieces.” He took a sip of the caf and sighed. “After rescuing the slaves, of course.”

Jyn grimaced again. “I think I’d let you do it. So no injuries or anything?”

He carried the mug over to the island in the kitchen and set it down. Then he rolled up the sleeve of his tan shirt and showed her a fading bruise running along the outside of his arm, from the elbow to nearly the wrist. “Malfunctioning turbolift door. But that’s it.”

“I was worried,” she admitted softly. “I like your brother, but he's a pilot. He's not a fighter like us.”

“I've been training him, but no. He's not there yet.” His dark eyes searched her face. “I can tell something is bothering you, Jyn. What is it?”

She glanced towards Torean's closed door and shook her head. Motioning for him to come with her, she headed for their room. He lifted one dark brow and followed, shutting the door without being asked.

“Secrecy, hmm? Find something on your father's computer?”

Jyn shook her head, smoothing her hands down the front of the long, hooded tunic she wore. It was the one Cassian had scrounged up for her when they'd left Yavin. She couldn't meet his eyes as she said, “I'm pregnant.”

Cassian nearly dropped the mug, and sat down suddenly on her side of the bed with a surprised “whuh?” He put the mug on her suddenly crowded nightstand and rubbed a hand over his face.

“Please say that again,” he requested, voice cracking as he spoke.

Jyn looked up then. She tried to keep the tremble out of her voice, but she felt suddenly like she was back on Scarif, hanging off a broken walkway, fighting not to plummet fifteen stories to an ugly death. “I'm pregnant. Cilghal says I'm nearly seven weeks. When we were on Marclonus for that extra week, I missed my birth control booster. And then I just forgot about it. I found out a few days ago.”

He reached out and took her hand, pulling her close. She both loved and hated the way his whole face lit up. “Pregnant,” he repeated. Cassian grinned, the fatigue that had he'd worn vanishing. “We're having a baby?”

She swallowed and flattened her hand over her stomach. “I guess we are.”

He frowned then. “You're not happy about this.”

Jyn shook her head. “I'm trying to be. But I'm scared.”

He hauled her into his arms, twisting to lay her on the bed. Jyn pressed close, the edges of her frayed nerves starting to soothe as he held her.

“Why are you scared, sweetheart?”

She picked at a loose thread on his collar, her head pillowed on his arm as they lay facing each other. “I don't know how to be a mother, Cassian. I don't … have enough softness. I can barely take care of myself decently. How can I be responsible for a helpless baby?”

He stroked his fingers up and down her spine. “You won't be alone in this.”

“How can you say that? You just left me for three weeks. I could go with you now, but later- And if you go without me, you could die, and- I'm terrified of what's going to happen and the thought of losing you makes me sick.” She gulped against a well of nausea just considering the possibility. “I haven't been able to sleep and I've barely been able to keep food down. I'm not in any condition to go on any assignments.”

He shook his head. “Calm down, Jyn. Shh.”

He was right. If she didn't, she was going to be sick. She squeezed her eyes shut, concentrating on just breathing for a while.

Cassian's hand moved from her back to thread through her hair, repeating the motion of running through the brown strands over and over.

“I am delighted at the thought of a baby,” he told her, murmuring the words into her hair. “But if you don't want this, I will not make you, Jyn.”

“I can't do that,” she whispered, surprised by how fiercely she said it. “There's no way I could do that. I'm just so…”

He kissed the top of her head and hugged her tightly. “We'll figure this out, love. We will. But for now, try to sleep. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere. Draven agreed that I'm planetside for at least a week. He probably already knows about the baby. But I'll talk to him tomorrow. Just rest.”

She nodded and forced herself to let go of her tension. It was easier now, she found, and it wasn't long before she finally succumbed.


	2. Chapter 2

After Jyn had fallen asleep, Cassian eased his arm out from under her head. She didn't stir. He didn't know if she'd even been aware she was crying.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he scrubbed his hands over his face. It broke his heart to see the fear on her face. How could he reassure her that he wasn't going anywhere, that he would be here for her and the baby?

He pried his boots off. Jyn had already removed hers before he'd come home from the debriefing. If Draven knew, it would explain why his commanding officer had so willingly given him the next week free.

The question now was, what was he going to do? He couldn't very well drag his pregnant wife out on dangerous missions, even if she were well enough. She'd hate being left behind, too.

Cassian stood with a sigh and left the bedroom, closing the door behind him. He rapped his knuckles on Tor’s door. When his brother answered, he said, “I need a drink.”

They still didn't have much in the way of furniture in the house. The only place to sit was at the dining table, it and the chairs made of plasteel and metal. It was ugly but functional, and not for the first time, he wondered which of his in-laws had picked it.

Torean fetched a bottle of something he'd found somewhere and plunked it and two glasses down on the table, taking the seat opposite his younger sibling.

“I'm going to go out on a limb and guess that Jyn's pregnant,” he said.

Cassian, hand on the bottle, froze. “How…?”

“She had a dizzy spell on the ship after you left. Made me promise not to tell you, but I'm thinking she's already done that.”

He didn't like that she was sick. But she'd said she was throwing up. The rest didn't surprise him. “Yes,” he said, and poured some of the alcohol into a glass.

“What are you going to do?”

“I have no kriffing idea.”

With a sardonic look, Torean lifted his own glass. “Salud,” he said, and tossed back his drink.

\-----

It was difficult to tell time of day on Lah’mu if one tried by gauging the light through the window. Jyn lay in bed, squinting at the dim glow behind the curtain, trying to figure out without rolling over to look at her wrist chrono on the nightstand. The sky was nearly always a purplish grey these days.

Actually, it was almost always that colour anyway. It was blue for a few weeks in what could dubiously be called summer, but for the most part, it was nasty and overcast nearly all year.

She contemplated getting up, but the past two weeks, sitting up had resulted fairly unanimously in rushing to the ‘fresher to vomit. She didn't want to do that today, not with Cassian back.

Jyn folded her hands over her lower abdomen, just above her pubic bone, as if she could feel the life growing there. She couldn't, of course. She wasn't nearly far enough along for that. Until Cassian had come home and she'd told him the news, she hadn't let herself think about it. It had been too much.

Now, she indulged it. The look on her husband's face on learning he was going to be a father had settled the question of keeping it, even if she'd never truly considered _not_. Yes, she was scared, but she'd been scared on Scarif, too, and they'd gotten through that.

The door opened and Cassian poked his head in. He was usually up long before her, anyway, but she'd kind of wanted to sleep in with him today. Maybe she could coax him back to bed.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, pushing the door open farther. They didn't have sliding doors, just panels on hinges with door knobs. It was very antiquated but she rather liked it.

“I haven't thrown up yet,” she said, “but that could change."

He carried a mug that steamed faintly. Cassian sat beside her and held it out. Jyn cautiously pushed upright and, when she didn't immediately have to bolt from the bed, took the mug.

“What is this?” she asked.

“I did some research last night while you slept. Pregnant women shouldn't have caf, it isn't good for the baby. So this is tea. Non-caffeinated. Herbal. It was in the boxes of things we brought out of the cave.”

She wrapped her hands tightly around the ceramic and took a careful sip. It wasn't exactly tasty, but it didn't trigger her gag reflex. “Thank you.”

Her husband smiled. “You're welcome. I should warn you, I told my brother. I felt he should know so that he can keep an eye on you and so he knows to keep the refresher free.”

Jyn snorted and took another sip. “What are your plans for today?”

“I commed Draven. I have a meeting with him at 1000 hours. We should discuss what we want before I take any proposals to him.”

She sighed and leaned back against the wall, the bed having no headboard. “I don't know. I don't want to just … give up and lie here for the next seven months. I don't want to keep you from your duties. But I can't- I can't let you go alone. So I don't know.”

He reached over and placed his hand on her thigh. “How about this: we tell him that you'll resume taking assignments with me when you're not sick anymore. We'll work until you have to stop. Then we'll reassess things.”

She thought about that. Rest until the morning sickness passed, work as long as she could--hopefully nothing horribly dangerous or strenuous--then come back here and rest until she had the baby. It sounded good. It was the first solution that didn't give her anxiety.

“Okay,” she agreed. “Cilghal said the morning sickness would pass around week eighteen, or should, anyway. I know that's still weeks away, almost two months. But I'm useless til then.”

“Not completely useless,” he assured her. “I was told yesterday that you have helped a lot with your father's work.”

Jyn shook her head ruefully. “And bored out of my skull.”

He grinned. “You need something to do that challenges you. Maybe that can be figuring out why we have almost no water this morning, while I meet with Draven.”

“It's probably one of the vaporators,” she said. The base had scores of them along the ridge. They had two on their little property. Technically they had a huge property, but they hadn't done anything with it. “I'll go check it out. Used to be one of my chores, actually, going around to the vaporators to see that they were on. I'd tell Papa if one wasn't and he'd go fix it. We had fifteen or twenty of them, but we needed water for his experiments and things, on top of cooking and bathing and the crops.”

It was nice to talk about it with Cassian, rather than keep it all in the dark hole she'd hidden things in for years. It was different, talking things out. But it came more easily as time went on. Only with him, though.

He checked his chrono. “I'm going to shower on base before the meeting, let you have what's available here. Comm if you need me.”

She nodded. Cassian leaned over to kiss her, then left. So much for getting him to come back to bed.

After finishing her tea, Jyn got out of bed and dressed. The herbal seemed to have helped her nausea, though she didn't feel up to food yet. She thought about having some caf anyway, but as much as she lived on the stuff, it didn't sound appealing this morning.

Shrugging into her coat, she went out to check the vaporators. They had a system where, if one went out, the other would go into low-power mode to reduce stress on the system. That hadn't been the case before, but with only two of the things, they didn't want to blow the other if one stopped working.

The first vaporator was fine. It was closer to the house, which meant she had to go out to the other one, about a hundred metres out from the house, over the snowy field that had once been wheat.

The second vaporator was offline. She pushed buttons but nothing happened. Sighing, she pulled out her commlink and called the base, asking for someone to come take a look.

To Jyn's mild surprise, it was Luke Skywalker who showed up, with a small box of tools. The kid wore a poncho similar to hers and a ridiculous floppy hat, smiling brightly when he saw her.

“Hi!” he said. “I'm told you're having trouble with your vaporator.”

She eyed him skeptically. “We are, yeah. You can fix it?”

The young man shrugged. “Same model we had back home. Only we had a bunch of them. Takes more effort to collect enough water on Tattooine.”

“Oh.”

He pulled out a multitool and popped open the control panel, blue eyes squinting in thought. “Actually, it's good I'm here. I wanted to run something by you and Captain Andor.”

“Cassian's with General Draven right now, but you can talk to me about it.”

“Well,” he said slowly, as he pushed buttons, “Wedge Antilles and I are talking about forming a new squadron. We need pilots not currently in other groups, so I was thinking of inviting Major Andor. But what I wanted to talk to you about is how you'd feel if we called it Rogue Squadron.”

The ground seemed to shift beneath Jyn's feet. She reached out to put a hand on the vaporator. “Rogue Squadron,” she echoed.

Luke looked a little sheepish. “I don't feel you guys got the recognition you deserved for what you did. The Council will never do that, so Wedge and I, we thought maybe naming a squadron after Rogue One would… fill in.”

Jyn swallowed hard, fighting the prick of tears in her eyes. “Bodhi would be honoured,” she told him softly. “He was the one who picked that call sign.”

“Hey, are you okay?”

She nodded. “Yes, just a touch of the Andorian flu.”

He gave her a puzzled look. “That's funny. Andorian flu, Andor. Think it'll clear up soon?” Then, “Is it contagious?”

Oh, bless his naïve little heart, she thought. “Only if you have a uterus and have sex with my husband or brother-in-law. It was a joke. I'm pregnant.”

“... Oh.” Luke laughed. “Han says I'm a little slow sometimes. Congratulations!”

“Thanks.” Cassian had plenty to complain about with Captain Solo. He still hadn't told her how Solo had broken his nose, or when. He resented the old injury, but Jyn thought it gave him a more dangerous air.

Then again, Cassian _was_  an assassin. But he was so sweet with her.

“I have a question,” she said, after a long moment.

Luke glanced up from his work. He'd opened a lower compartment on the vaporator and was checking wires. “What's that?”

“You're a Jedi, right? Or you were training to be one?”

He sighed. “Yeah. I don't know if I'd call myself a Jedi, I only had a little training before Ben died.”

“Ben?”

“Master Kenobi.”

“Oh.”

“But I learned some. Why?”

Jyn chewed on her bottom lip for a moment. Everything told her to trust this kid, and her mother had told her to trust the Force. Reaching a decision, she pulled her necklace from under her shirt.

“My mother gave me this before she died. It's a kyber crystal. Her last words to me were to trust the Force.”

“Can I see it?” he asked, straightening with an eager look on his face.

Reluctantly, Jyn unclasped it and handed it to him. “You have a lightsaber. It's powered by a kyber crystal, isn't it?”

“Oh, no. I mean, yeah, there's a crystal in it, but it doesn't power it. It's got a regular power cell for that. The crystal is what makes the blade. My dad made it. He was a Jedi, training with Master Kenobi. But Vader killed him when I was a baby.”

“Skywalker,” she said, then her eyes went wide. “Not Anakin Skywalker.”

“Yeah. How'd you know?”

She took the crystal back when he held it out. “After my mother died, and the Empire took my father, I was raised by Saw Gerrera. He said he knew a Jedi once, named Anakin Skywalker.”

Luke's blue eyes grew huge. “This Saw knew my father? Where can I find him?”

Jyn's heart dropped. “I'm sorry. He died on Jedha. But he told me stories. I could try to remember them, though.”

The young man's face fell. “Oh. Yeah. That'd be good. Um. What was your question about the crystal?”

“It wasn't the crystal so much as… Six months ago, when Cassian and I were on Dressel, I had a dream. Well, Cassian says it was a dream, but I think I was awake. I saw my mother, and she repeated that I needed to trust the Force, and she told me that my father wasn't all my parents were hiding from the Empire.”

Luke's eyes moved from the crystal in her hand to her face, suddenly intent and solemn. “What were you doing when you had this ‘dream’?”

“Sitting by a lake, under a tree. I was listening to the birds with my eyes closed, and then Mama was there. She wasn't solid, and she was sort of… blue. Not like a person who's stopped breathing, but glowing.”

He let out an incredulous laugh. “You had a Force vision,” he told her, sounding absolutely delighted. “Of course your parents were hiding you. You're Force sensitive.”

“That can't be,” she protested, though he was just confirming her suspicions. “Neither of my parents were, and I've had no sign of it til now.”

“That you know of,” he countered. “I've heard you have really good aim, you're incredibly lucky. You don't seem like a natural leader, but people follow you. But all that aside, have you ever sensed things you shouldn't? Known things you shouldn't? Heard voices?”

“Hearing voices is schizophrenia,” she quipped lamely. “I… I mentioned Chirrut Îmwe when we first met. He and his partner, Baze Malbus, were former Guardians of the Whills, whatever that is.”

“No idea,” Luke admitted.

“Chirrut was blind, but he was the most amazing fighter. He said he could feel the Force, but not touch it. He told me that I'm a bright light. He could feel my kyber crystal, and I realised a while ago that I can, too. And I hear him, sometimes. In my head.”

Luke smiled gently, almost beatifically. “I hear Ben sometimes. He told me, during the Death Star run, to use the Force.”

“Is that why you turned off your targeting computer?”

He nodded. Crouching by the vaporator, he returned to his work. “Yep. I trusted the Force to tell me when.”

“Wow. I used to think the Force was just a story my mother told me. But…”

“Aha! Sorry. Found the problem. This connector is loose. One second.” Luke dug into his box and pulled something out. Using the multitool, he pried off the old connector and clamped a new one on. “There. Let's see if that worked.”

He stood, pushed buttons on the control panel, and it beeped to signal a return of power. “Success! You should have water again in a couple hours.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem. Pretty easy fix, once you find it. Finding it is the problem, though.”

Jyn nodded, having the feeling that there was deeper meaning to his words.

“You're probably not ready to train anything yet,” he said, “but when you are, I can help. I don't know a ton, but what I do know, I can pass on to you.”

Impulsively, she said, “Join us for dinner tonight. Torean will be cooking. I'm hopeless at it, but he's good. You can talk to him about the squadron.”

“Sure. Thanks. What time?”

“When we're on base, we usually eat around 1900.”

“Okay. I'll be there.”

He gathered up his things and set back across the field towards the main part of the base. Jyn watched him go. Then she sighed and headed back to the house.


	3. Chapter 3

He hated snow. Fest was a wasteland trapped in perpetual winter, and when the Andor family had moved to Carida, Cassian had been thrilled. It was a lot warmer there. They'd been close to the planet's equator and there had been next to no chance of snow. Granted, they hadn't been there long, anyway, but he'd hated snow ever since.

Fat flakes drifted from the murky sky as he trudged to the house he was beginning to think of as home. He loathed the weather on Lah'mu, but Jyn had an inner peace since coming here that he couldn't begrudge her. And it could have been worse. Eadu was worse. Hoth was a nightmare. The Alliance had considered it briefly when evacuating Yavin, but had decided it was too extreme. They didn't have the resources to set up there, though they'd consider it if things got desperate and they had to leave Lah'mu.

He took off his boots and coat. Torean was on the base, helping train some new pilots. That left him and Jyn here for the afternoon.

She was at the table, going over her datapad, hair left down for once. “Vaporator is fixed. Luke came by. Turns out he has a lot of mechanical skills from working on a moisture farm on Tattooine. Also, he says I'm Force sensitive and wants to train me to be a Jedi.”

Cassian chuckled as he went for the caf machine. “Kid has a sense of humour, huh?”

She looked up, pretty face set in serious lines. “I'm not joking.”

He stopped, leaned against the island. He wanted to say something, anything, but it felt like his brain had stopped. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, then gave his head a hard shake.

“Yesterday you tell me you are pregnant,” he said finally. “Today, you tell me you're Force sensitive. What's tomorrow, that Darth Vader is your real father?”

Jyn snorted. “Hardly. I know it's a lot to take in. But it does explain some things.”

“What things?” Cassian demanded, then stopped, took a breath. “Sorry. It is a lot to take in.”

She gestured to the chair next to her, and after a moment, Cassian went to it without getting the caf he wanted.

“There are things I can't explain. I've been thinking since Luke left about… about my childhood. My parents kept me away from Krennic, even when he was at the apartment all the time, on Coruscant. It explains why they made me hide in the cave. Mama gave me this crystal and told me to trust the Force. It seemed like such a strange thing to say, when she knew she was going to go face the Imperials. It was more important to her than saying she loved me. That always bothered me.”

He reached over and took her hand, squeezing her fingers. “I didn't get last words with them,” he admitted. “Not like that. They sent us off to school. I never saw them again. My mother's last words to me were to have a good day.”

Jyn covered his hand with her other one. “It could have been worse. I don't think Luke ever even knew his parents. Anyway, I told him about that dream I had of my mother on Dressel. He said it was a Force vision. He's offered to teach me what little he knows, and I'll tell him everything Saw Gerrera told me about his father.”

“Saw knew Luke's father?”

She nodded. “Anakin Skywalker. He's coming to dinner tonight. He and Wedge Antilles want to talk to Torean, too. They're putting together a squadron. Luke asked if it was alright if they called it Rogue Squadron.”

Cassian felt the old, familiar twist of his gut at remembering the crew of Rogue One. He listed their names, all of them, nearly every day. He'd wake up, beside Jyn, and mentally recite them all. Bodhi Rook. Chirrut Îmwe. Baze Malbus. Ruescott Melshi. Sefla. Pao. Tonc. The list went on.

“Luke followed in our path,” he said. “He finished what we started. If he wants to keep the tradition going, I certainly won't stop him.”

“That's how I feel about it.”

She rose from the table and got him some caf. As she set the mug in front of him, she asked, “How did the meeting with General Draven go?”

“He agreed to our plan. Yes, he knows you're pregnant. As our CO, he has the access. It's all in your official record. He said he hates to lose one of his best field agents to drudgery,” Cassian said, with a wry smile, “but for now, I'm being moved to analysis, here on base. They would like you to continue going through your father's things. Some of the sealed crates we brought up from the bunker were full of data storage. He's being very generous in letting you do it here. They'll bring the computer to you.”

"Alright. I've had worse work.”

He braced his elbow on the table, chin on his hand, and sighed. “I have been watching and listening, probing all of my contacts. If we have a mole in the Alliance, it isn't an underling. It would have to be someone above my clearance. I admit, I am only a captain. There are a few ranks above me.”

“But who would do it? We're all here because we hate the Empire.”

Cassian swallowed some of his caf and shook his head. “It would need to be someone who knows that Liana Hallik was your alias. Someone who works in communications, in the command centre, one of the extraction team, Mon Mothma, or Generals Draven or Dodonna. Maybe Bel Iblis. Most of the council didn't know. Senator Organa knew but he's dead. The extraction team went with us to Scarif. Those posted in the command centre are under General Draven, for obvious reasons, and if anyone were not trustworthy, he would not only know, he wouldn't hesitate to kill them.”

“Which leaves him, the other generals, or Mon Mothma. She doesn't strike me as the type.”

“No. Draven is crafty and devious, but everything he does is for the Alliance. Dodonna… No. I do not see it.”

She frowned and leaned back in her chair. “So either it's someone we're overlooking, someone who possibly used the chaos of evacuation to inform the Empire…”

“Or,” he said, hating the words even before they were out of his mouth, “Orson Krennic escaped Scarif somehow. I know we had his shuttle. I don't know how he would have gotten down from the tower, and the Death Star Destroyer the dish. I saw it fall on the platform. The rubble would have crushed him. It nearly crushed us.”

Jyn pushed back her chair and went to the window, hugging herself tightly. Cassian shoved to his feet and went to her, pulling her back against him.

“I'd rather a spy than that,” she whispered.

He dropped his chin on her shoulder. “I know, love. But as I told you before. If he survived, I will kill him. I will remove his head, too, to make sure.”

“I still say you should have let me push him off the ledge.”

“Maybe I should have. Too late now.” He kissed the side of her neck. “It occurs to me that I was away for half a month. And we have the house to ourselves for a few hours.”

“Mmm. That is true.” She turned in his arms, looking up at him with green eyes turned sultry. “What are you waiting for, then, Captain Andor?”

He stooped and swung her up into his arms. It wasn't far to their room, and he kicked the door shut. Cassian set her down on the bed, kneeling one leg on it, and Jyn grabbed him, dragging him with her as she fell back.

It was hard to put into words how much he adored her. The day they'd first met, in the command centre on Yavin, he'd seen a tiny, angry, belligerent and mouthy scrap of a girl using that bluster to cover her fear. He'd been simultaneously drawn to and repelled by her. As he'd gotten to know her, he'd found himself transfixed by her. It hadn't taken long at all to fall completely in love with Jyn Erso.

They hurried to undress, interrupted by kisses and touches and laughs. Cassian sucked and licked at her breasts, already noting tiny changes. Her nipples were much more sensitive than they'd been. He kissed his way down her body and she moaned, writhing beneath him.

She threw her legs wide in invitation and he didn't hesitate, spreading her to apply his mouth to her core. He loved doing this for her, knowing only he had. She'd told him in the beginning that he was the only man to ever give her an orgasm, and he delighted in the honour, bringing her to climax as many times as she could stand every time they made love.

Jyn's small fingers tangled in his hair as she panted, hips pushing up towards his mouth. “Cassian!” she whimpered. “Kriff, Cassian, don't stop!”

He circled her clit with his tongue, sliding first one finger, then two, into her tight heat. She'd always been so fast to arouse, but now she was already dripping. He could tell by the way her breathing changed that she was close to coming.

Sucking her clit between his lips, he curled his fingers up into the rough patch inside her. She nearly flew off the bed, gasping as she climaxed.

It gave him a huge ego boost to see her sprawled, limp and sated, on the bed. Cassian licked his fingers clean and moved over her, settled in her arms with his erection pressing into her stomach.

Jyn pulled him down, pressing her mouth to his. She never shied away from kissing him after he'd gone down on her, which he always found to be incredibly sexy. He rocked against her and she twined her legs around his hips.

He clasped her hands, weaving their fingers together. She moaned just a little as he pushed into her, and Cassian had to hold still for a few moments, because it nearly undid him.

“I love you,” he told her.

“I love you,” she breathed. “My Cassian.”

He rolled his hips, watching with sheer delight as her eyes rolled back and fluttered closed. Gradually, he increased the pace of his thrusts, until Jyn was moaning with abandon beneath him, her strong legs gripping him tight.

She tugged at their joined hands, but Cassian refused to let go. “Please,” she begged. “Please, please, please, Cass-”

Jyn cried out, going rigid with her orgasm. He said, “Breathe, love.”

She sucked in a huge breath, collapsing on the bed as he continued pistoning his hips, hard and fast. Only then did he let go, needing his hands to brace. She stroked his chest, legs still wrapped around him but moved to his waist to let him move.

“Come for me,” she whispered. “Come for me, Cassian.”

He found his release then, shuddering and letting his head drop, forehead against hers. Jyn cupped his face in her hands, moving to kiss him, slow and deep.

When he made to pull out, she tightened her grip on him.

“Not yet,” she whispered. “I missed this.”

“I don't want to hurt you or-”

“The baby is fine. I like you right here.”

He carefully lowered his weight, sinking into her kiss. Who was he to refuse?


	4. Chapter 4

Jyn woke from a doze, wrapped tight in Cassian's arms, covered in a pile of blankets. She didn't remember falling asleep, but that wasn't surprising. She'd been dropping off constantly the past week, always exhausted.

His left hand rested on her breast, his chest warm against her back. She ran her fingers along his, before toying idly with his wedding ring.

Behind her, he shifted to kiss her bare shoulder. “I missed this.”

“Mm. Next time, don't go without me.”

He chuckled in her ear, a timbre that made heat pool low in her belly. She never could get enough of him.

Cassian sat up, and Jyn shivered from the loss of his body heat. “I got you something,” he said, and climbed out of bed.

Jyn rolled to her other side, the sheet pulled up to cover her breasts. She propped up on her elbow and watched him curiously. The view was nice, too, and she grinned to herself as he bent over.

Cassian came back to the bed, brow arched at her shameless ogling. He climbed back up and held out his hand. “I know you probably will not wear this, but…”

She let him drop something silver and shiny into her palm. It was a bracelet, with little charms on it. A rough blue crystal the size of her pinky nail, drilled through and hung on thick wire. Something that looked like a water droplet. A tiny palm tree. A plain silver ring. There were a few others as well. Jyn lifted confused eyes to him.

He pointed to the crystal. “A kyber crystal fragment I found on the shuttle we stole from Eadu. It's to represent Jedha. The teardrop is supposed to be water, rain for Eadu.”

Or, she thought, her tears at losing her father.

“The tree is Scarif. The orange bead is Yavin. The little ring is Dressel. They represent everything we have been through together, the places we've been.”

Jyn was profoundly touched. “It's beautiful, Cassian. Thank you.”

“My mother had a similar bracelet. She didn't always wear it, but I would sit on her lap and she would tell me about them. I didn't know about the baby when I got it, when I started collecting them, but maybe… you could tell our stories to our child some day.”

She closed her hand around the bracelet and sat up to throw her arms around him. “I love it. And I love you.”

He closed his arms around her. “I love you.”

The ease with which she could say it to him, after so long pushing people away, never failed to amaze her. What she had with Cassian had always felt special, as if they'd known each other for years.

Jyn rested her head against his shoulder, listening to the thump of his heart. “I'm not as scared,” she told him. “I mean, I'm still scared, but it doesn't feel as uncertain as it did.”

“I know you are. But I _will_  be here.”

“What if I'm not a good mother?” She lifted her head, searched his face. “What if I'm not able to do it?”

He kissed her forehead. “Jyn, love, you stole the Death Star plans, survived nearly being blown up by that Death Star at least twice, and you yelled at the chief of state. I'm not worried.”

Jyn had to laugh. “When you put it that way…”

“Do you think we have enough water for a shower? If we're having a guest for dinner, we should clean up.”

She gave him a sly look. “I'm not sure. We should shower together and save water.”

“That kind of smart thinking will make you a good parent.”

\-----

They didn't have any better food than the rest of the general population, but they had spices and Torean was creative. When he learned Luke was coming to dinner, he simply increased the recipe enough for Luke and possibly Wedge.

“And you, mamá,” he added, pointing at Jyn. “Don't think we'll let you pick at food now. That is my niece or nephew.”

Cassian smiled, watching the banter between his wife and brother. He'd been afraid they wouldn't like each other, since Torean had been off-planet when Jyn had come into his life and they hadn't met until after Scarif. But Tor had readily accepted Jyn, and she seemed to help his brother with his grief.

If he lost Jyn, the way Torean had lost Antoc…

He didn't think he'd do nearly as well. Especially now, when she carried his child.

Cassian leaned against the island and watched her move around their home, in socks but no shoes, wearing one of his sweaters and a pair of sleep pants, her glossy brown hair pulled back at the nape of her neck. He suspected that she planned to crawl back into bed at the earliest opportunity. Not that he blamed her. She still had faint smudges under her eyes and she'd been ill after their shower.

The knock at the door came right at 1900. At least the kid was punctual. Cassian let Luke and Wedge in, shook hands with both. Jyn brought them lomin ales, though Luke refused. Jyn wasn't drinking, either, and had more of the tea from before.

It amused Cassian faintly that his wife could kill a man with her bare hands, but he'd had to show her how to make tea.

“Sit,” he told her, and guided her to a chair.

She narrowed those beautiful eyes at him, but it was hard to find her that intimidating when she was so short.

“Please,” he added.

Grudgingly, Jyn sat.

Antilles was Corellian, had gone to the Imperial Academy on Carida but had defected almost as soon as he'd graduated. He was still new, at least to Cassian, almost Jyn's age but not as hardened by life. Reports said he was an excellent pilot. Not to Skywalker’s level, but that one had an assist from the Force. Wedge smiled easily, but there was an edge to him. Cassian wondered what it was, why he'd defected to join them. It wasn't just a moral choice. It never was. Everyone had their catalyst.

Luke, on the other hand, was almost like a puppy. Cassian couldn't believe there was anyone so genuinely nice in the whole galaxy. He just radiated kindness and goodness, at odds with what Cassian had seen in his file from various missions the kid had been involved with since he'd joined the Rebellion. Luke Skywalker was an incredible pilot and never missed a shot. He preferred to disable rather than kill, but if necessary, he didn't hesitate.

“You're staring,” Wedge said.

“Am I? Sorry. Thinking.” Cassian popped the cap off his ale and took a pull of the slightly bitter alcohol. “You mentioned to Jyn that you want to start a squadron.”

Torean brought plates over, making sure everyone was served before he sat himself. “What squadron is this?” he asked.

“Rogue Squadron,” Luke said, with the barest flick of his gaze towards Jyn and Cassian, sitting close together on their side of the table.

Torean's gaze did the same. “And who will be in this squadron? Not Jyn, she's a terrible pilot-”

“Hey!”

“Little sister, I love you, but it's true.”

Cassian felt Jyn tense. He caught her hand, knowing she was remembering the last thing Baze Malbus had said to her. She squeezed back and stuck her tongue out at Tor.

“-and Cassian prefers different ships.”

It was Wedge who said, “Luke. Me. Tycho Celchu, he's a recent defector. From Alderaan. He was on a holocall to his family when the Empire blew it up.”

Cassian winced.

“Hobbie Klivian, Wes Janson, Face Loran, Ton Phanan. That's it for now. We want the full dozen, so we have five slots open.”

Luke put in, “We were hoping you'd join us. You're the most experienced of the available pilots.”

Torean looked to Cassian, who shrugged. “It's up to you,” he told his older sibling. “You haven't liked Intelligence.”

“Not when I want to punch Draven ninety percent of the time.”

As Cassian had been tempted to do just that since Eadu, he didn't comment on it. “Jyn and I will be occupied here for some weeks,” he said instead. “I say you should do it, if you want to.”

Torean’s face shuttered and he said, “I’ll need to think about it.”

Cassian reached over and squeezed his brother’s shoulder. He knew Tor was thinking of General Antoc Merrick, who had been Torean’s romantic partner for close to five years. Torean had flown as Blue Two at the Battle of Scarif, but hadn’t made it through the shield gate. That was what had ultimately saved his life, though Torean’s fighter had exploded just after he’d gone EV. One of the corvettes had picked him up. He’d lost his leg and nearly died, hadn’t known until days later that Antoc, who as Blue Leader had taken most of the squadron inside the shield gate, had died on the planet.

He looked at Jyn, seated just to his left. They, too, had nearly died there. Only her remembering that Krennic had had a shuttle had enabled their escape, just before the Death Star had fired on the planet. There were other ships, too, but that had been closest and easiest. And since Krennic had been the one behind everything, it seemed fitting to steal his ship and leave him to die.

Problem was, it was looking like there was a chance Krennic had escaped. Cassian couldn’t think of any other way that the Empire could know that Jyn Erso--now Andor--was their escaped prisoner Liana Hallik.

Wedge said to Torean, “There’s no rush on a decision. We’re still sourcing fighters since we lost so many at Scarif and Yavin.”

Luke, just to Jyn’s left at the end of the table, leaned over. “Have you thought about my offer at all?”

Cassian glanced over at his wife again. It was a bit like watching a smashball game, keeping track of the two conversations.

“Yes. I don’t remember much, I warn you. Saw told the stories mostly when I was very young, eight or nine, when I had nightmares about my parents.”

“Stories about what?” Torean asked.

“Jyn’s foster father, Saw Gerrera, knew my father,” Luke told him. “Anakin Skywalker. He died when I was a baby.”

Torean made an interested noise. “Antoc mentioned him. Never met him, but he’d heard of him. Kind of famous, big Jedi hero during the Clone Wars. Now, Cass and I, our parents were a bit on the opposite side of that. It shames me to admit it, but we had quote jobs unquote to throw rocks at and harass the clone troopers. My view of them changed when… Well. There was a riot, and someone started throwing grenades. Our school was hit and my brother and I were nearly crushed. A Jedi and a clone trooper got us out and saved us.”

Cassian nodded. “I don’t remember much of that day, I will be honest. I hit my head. But I remember the man that got me out. He had a blue lightsaber. He had dark blonde hair, and a scar across his eye. Dark robes.”

Luke got a funny look on his face. “Obi-Wan told me…”

Everyone looked his way. Luke fumbled at his belt for the lightsaber he always wore. “Did it look like this?” he asked Cassian.

Cassian took the proffered weapon, turning it in his hands. “Maybe. Do you mind if I…?”

Luke shook his blonde, shaggy head.

Standing from the table, Cassian took a few steps away. “I’ve always wanted to do this,” he admitted.

Pointing the weapon away from everyone else, he pressed the control to turn it on. With a snap-hiss and a deep hum, the bright blue blade flared to life. He found himself suddenly six years old again, watching the blade of a lightsaber cut through the wall and bring light and air to the small space he’d been trapped in. It had glowed like the sky in light form. The man wielding it had held out his hand, saying, “Take my hand. Are you alright? What’s your name?” He'd forgotten that until now.

“Yes,” Cassian said slowly. “This is it. I don’t know how I know, I’m sure this isn’t the only blue lightsaber the Jedi ever had, but yes.”

The blonde kid slumped back in his chair. “That was my dad.”

Jyn leaned her forearms on the table. “That’s amazing! Your father rescues Saw, who raises me. He rescues Cassian. Cassian and I get the Death Star plans, and you blow it up. I think he’d be proud to know all of that.”

That brought a smile to Luke’s face. “You think so?”

“Yeah.”

\-----

After spending the evening with Jyn telling Luke stories about his father, Wedge left and the fledgling Jedi gave Jyn her first lesson on the Force. It involved a lot of sitting with her eyes closed, trying to sense the Force around them.

She thought she was finally starting to when Luke suddenly said, “Oh!”

She opened her eyes. “What?”

Luke’s gaze was fixed on her stomach, about waist level. He had a smile on his face. “Sorry. I just, uh, felt your baby. You glow so much in the Force, it was hard to see the little guy.”

Jyn flattened her hands over her stomach. “Little guy?”

“Yeah. I don’t know the gender, I can’t feel that. I just didn’t want to call the baby ‘it’. I know you’re struggling with the Force. Maybe you could start by trying to sense your child.”

She closed her eyes, reaching down, trying to do as suggested. But she couldn’t.

Cassian came over with a mug of tea and handed it to her. “I hate to interrupt, but Jyn needs sleep. She’s doing all her work from home here, so you can visit tomorrow if you want to pick this up again.”

She wanted to argue, but if anyone knew her, possibly better than she knew herself, it was her husband. And she _was_  very tired. “Yes, that’s a good idea. Thank you, Luke, for the lesson, even if I’m a terrible student so far.”

The kid gave her a crooked smile. “You’re the one that’s seen a Force ghost. You just need to learn to tap into it.”

He left not long after. Jyn finished the mug of tea, then shuffled into their bedroom. She stood by the side of the bed, swaying a little with exhaustion. Cassian hugged her from behind, and she leaned back into his embrace.

“Do you think it would be bad of me to just spend tomorrow asleep?”

“No. I think it would be a good idea.”

She changed into sleep clothes, musing as she did that it was the first time since she was a child that she actually had clothes dedicated just to sleep in.

Cassian sat on the bed, holding her old Dressellian toy. “Where did this come from?”

“It was mine as a child. Torean found it under his bed yesterday.”

Jyn took it from him, turning it over in her hands. “That makes two toys our baby will have,” she said. “This and the Ewok.”

Her husband shuddered. Wes Janson, one of the pilots that Luke and Wedge had recruited, was a prankster. Shortly after the Death Star had been destroyed, he'd played a joke on Cassian, giving him the stuffed toy. Cassian wasn't afraid of many things, but Ewoks apparently numbered amongst them. Jyn had claimed it, and kept it in the little cubby under her nightstand.

“Are you determined to traumatise our child?” he asked.

She laughed and moved to put the toy with the Ewok. “No,” she told him. “I'm determined to give them the best we can manage.”

Cassian pulled her to sit on his lap. She looped her arm around his neck. It was funny, she thought, how simply touching him brought her comfort.

“I've been thinking,” he told her, as he placed his hand low on her abdomen. “I believe in this cause, and you have renewed my ability to fight. I was ready to die, just to give up and… Anyway, thanks to you, I can live again. But I think… When this baby comes, maybe we'll walk away from the Rebellion.”

Jyn reached up to run her fingers through his hair. It was absolutely criminal how soft his hair was. “You know I joined for you, ultimately. I believe in it now, so much more than I did, but if it comes to a choice between the Rebellion and our family, I will always choose you.”

He shifted, rolling to lay her on the bed, his body covering hers. “I feel we've done our part,” he told her softly. “We got the plans. Can they really ask us to stay after that?”

“They can ask, but that doesn't mean we have to.”


	5. Chapter 5

It wasn't precisely a nightmare that woke Jyn in the small hours. She couldn't remember what it had been about, just that it had been dark and cold. In waking, she still felt the chill, and her fingers hurt. She was left with an unexplained sense of unease.

She sat up, twisting to see if she'd woken Cassian. She usually did when she dreamed. Jyn had felt guilty for that for a few months, until he'd told her that he'd rather lose a little sleep than have her suffer alone.

A tiny sliver of moonlight had found its way around the curtain over the window, illuminating Cassian's face. He was more relaxed in sleep than he had been in the beginning. It made him look younger, not as weary. He still kept a blaster under his pillow, but no longer slept with his hand on it.

She leaned over to kiss his shoulder lightly. He didn't even stir. Unusual for him; normally he was the lightest sleeper she knew.

Jyn slid out of bed and went to use the refresher. It was pretty small, tucked between their bedroom and the alcove of the kitchen. When she stepped out after, she noticed that the light was on in Torean's room.

She knocked, and he called, “It's open.”

He sat on the floor, tinkering with the droid. He didn't glance up when she entered. “I'm almost done,” he told her. “I just need to finish installing the vocoder and get the droid brain inserted in this spot, here.”

“I could have been Cassian,” she pointed out.

“Nah. Your tread is different than his. He can be very quiet in the field, but here, he walks heavier. He's less on guard.”

Jyn had noticed that. She glanced around, taking in the changes he'd made to the room she'd lived in for roughly three years. The recessed shelf that ran along the wall, the length of the single bed, was filled with a cup, a dirty plate, an empty bottle of lomin ale. A few datapads, a holocube presently displaying one of the two brothers in their late teens.

She stepped around him and picked it up. Cassian looked so young. He hadn't grown his stubbly beard or mustache yet, and it was odd to see. But his eyes were the same: dark, fierce, weary.

“He was eighteen,” Torean said behind her. “I was twenty. He joined first, convinced me to sign up. Our foster family had been involved, but they were killed when Cassian was fifteen, and I was seventeen. We spent a few years with a resistance group, but he wanted to do more. I think part of him wants to make up for our parents supporting the Separatists.”

Jyn nearly dropped the holocube, turning to look at him with big eyes. “They did?”

“Did he not tell you that?”

“He said they were Separatist-leaning, but…”

Torean snorted and put down his multitool. “If you call being in a Separatist-funded insurrectionist cell ‘leaning’. I don't know all the details. I was only eight. He probably knows less, or pretends he does. I overheard two of the clone troopers say that our parents had been at the front of the riot the day they died. I don't know.”

“I'm sorry,” she said, but it felt inadequate.

The news wasn't a huge surprise, and it in no way changed the way she felt about Cassian. Children could hardly be held responsible for the actions of their parents, especially when they were that young. But it put a lot of things in perspective.

“Our parents,” he continued, “were good people. But they believed lies they were told. They raised us to believe them. That the Republic was going to destroy everything, that the Jedi wanted to rule the normal people. It wasn't true. But we didn't know that.”

“I don't remember the war. I was two when it ended. We lived a few places, I can't even remember them all now. There was a year on Coruscant, when I was just little. Maybe four. We left when I was five, came here. All I remember before then is… being scared a lot. It was safe here.” She shrugged. “And then it wasn't. And nowhere was really safe until…”

Jyn sat on the edge of the bed as Tor resumed work on the droid. “I used to sit where you're sitting, playing with my dolls when it was raining too much to go outside. I made up grand adventures for them. But mostly I played outside. There was no danger in it, really. There were no other people for at least a kilometre in any direction, no one came out this way. I ran wild, climbing hills and this cliff out by the beach. It isn't really a cliff, it's probably only a metre tall, but when I was eight…”

“The universe seems much larger then,” he agreed. “You have small hands. Help me fix this in place.”

Jyn moved to kneel on the floor and took the multitool with its tiny welding tip. “Where?”

He showed her. She wasn't the best at mechanical things, but she could manage welding parts in place. Saw had trained her in so many things, she'd just become rusty with a lot of it over the years between.

“Do you know how Cassian got Kaytoo?” she asked.

Torean shook his head. “Not all of it. He came back from some run about six years ago with the droid in tow. They were the oddest sight, my quiet brother and his sarcastic droid. I don't know where the personality came from.”

Jyn chuckled, remembering some of the things Kay had said to her. “I hope this works. He's missed Kaytoo a lot.”

“He has. I know I have said this before, but I'm glad he has you. He's always been a loner. It makes him a good intelligence agent, I know, but I'm his brother and I worry about him. You know… Before he left with you to Jedha, he left me a message. Said he couldn't tell me where he was going, but he said he was with ‘a short, annoying girl’, that he had to take you with him, and that he hoped to see me when he got back--I was away, you know--and he would tell me if he'd decided if he was going to kill you or kiss you.”

Jyn couldn't help grinning. “Until Scarif, I alternated between wanting to kiss him or punch him in the face. There was one point where I flat-out wanted to murder him, but I'm glad I didn't.”

“I'm sorry about your father,” he said quietly. “Cassian told me what Draven ordered him to do. That wasn't right.”

She shrugged and sat back on her heels, turning the tiny welder off. “I know why that decision was made. I still don't agree with it, but I understand it. It could have been a trap or just lies, or anything.”

“Doesn't make it hurt less, though.”

“No.” She studied his face. “You're back to not sleeping, aren't you? Up late, working on the droid.”

He rolled his shoulders, looking down at the tools and spare parts strewn on the floor. “It will be a year in a few weeks. It doesn't seem that long sometimes, and others it feels like forever. I don't-”

Torean stopped. He swallowed and shook his head. “For a few weeks after, the only thing that kept me alive was having Cassian there, watching him with you. And you accepted me as a friend. That helped.”

She reached over and clasped his hand in the same motion as returning the multitool. “You accepted me. No one else really has.”

“More have than you might think. But it is difficult to talk to people when you know they're the only ones who made it back. What do you say to someone who went on a suicide mission, succeeded at the mission part but not the suicide part, and came back?”

“When I figure that out,” she said dryly, “I'll let you know.”

Jyn stood, not the easiest thing with her balance always slightly askew, and brushed her hands off. “You think he's ready?”

“Probably. But I'm reluctant to test.”

“I know what you mean. Let's wait until tomorrow and surprise him. Then, if there are any problems, _he_  can fix them.”

Torean's soft laugh followed her out. As she pulled the door shut, she thought that he deserved someone to make him happy, the way she was with Cassian.

Her husband was still asleep when she crawled back into bed, lying on his back now with his arm flung over her side of the bed. She snuggled close, pulling the covers up over them both, and rested her head on his chest.

Her father had been a pacifist. Her mother had been the rebellious one, but in secret. What had the Andors been like? What had driven them to their choices?

In the end, it didn't matter. What mattered was the sons they'd left behind, and what those men would do with the legacy they'd been left.

She closed her hand around the crystal her mother had given her, and drifted to sleep.

\-----

Cassian was up early. He'd vaguely noticed Jyn's absence from bed in the middle of the night, but given her frequent dashes to the ‘fresher to be sick, hadn't thought about it. Her subsequent vault from the bed in a flurry of thrown covers the next morning merely had him fixing her more tea and handing her a wet cloth with which to wipe her face.

“How many more weeks of this?” he asked as he handed her the mug.

She grunted at him. He took that to mean “too many”.

It was his turn to make breakfast, since Torean had cooked dinner. Cassian reconstituted the powdered eggs and fried them with bantha milk butter, leaving unspiced ones for his wife. He also tossed in some fried charbote root and some nerf sausages. The charbote was apparently wild crops left from Galen Erso’s farming attempts, taken over large swaths of land with abandon. They'd harvested literal tons and shared them with the rest of the base. Truthfully, he was getting sick of charbote root, but it was what they had.

Torean took a turn in the ‘fresher when Jyn had dragged herself out of it finally. He took a quick shower and joined his younger sibling in the small kitchen.

“I've decided to join this Rogue Squadron,” Torean said, as he poured caf from the pot Cassian had started.

“Yeah?”

The elder Andor nodded. “Intelligence work is… not my thing. I like working with you, but after what we saw on this last operation, I can't do it. I want to get back to flying. And shooting the bad guys.”

Cassian had to chuckle. “Alright. You do that. But it has been a help to have someone with us.”

“You worked for years by yourself,” his brother pointed out, as he set his caf down. “Well, you and that droid. I know Jyn is short, but-”

The chuckle turned into a full laugh. “Don't let her hear you, she'll remove your new leg!”

“Hear what?” Jyn came out of the bedroom, in pants, bare feet, and the hooded tunic she favoured.

“That you're short.” Torean danced out of the way, grinning, as she swatted at him. “You can't even reach me!”

“That’s what you think!” Jyn lunged at him, moving with startling speed. She caught his flailing arm and yanked him towards her as she hooked her leg around his. She used her forward momentum to twist him around and bore him to the floor, arm behind his back, face down.

Cassian leaned back against the counter, one eyebrow raised. “I think you forgot who she is, Tor.”

“Ow,” Torean said.

Smugly, Jyn rose and offered him her hand. She helped pull him to his feet. “You really do need to remember, Torean, I’m not the princess.”

Torean rubbed his arm, making a face at her. “Point taken.”

Cassian said, “I warned you. I've seen her take on four stormtroopers by herself with nothing but a stick and win.”

“And you got off on it,” his wife said. “Pervert.”

Jyn came over and stood on her toes to kiss him. He wrapped his arms around her. Her hair was down, and he noticed that it was longer now, reaching her shoulder blades instead of her collarbone.

“We've been working on something,” she told him. “Your brother and I. We're hoping it's complete, but need you to check. I'm good at slicing and he's good at mechanical repair, but neither of us is very good at programming.”

He arched a brow as she dropped back to her heels. What could they be working on? And when? “I can't promise I can help, but I'll try. What is it?”

His wife and brother exchanged a look, and then Torean went to his room. Jyn extracted herself from Cassian's arms and set about making tea. He had the feeling she was moving out of his way.

His brother emerged, shoving a black and silver astromech droid ahead of him. It was heavy, the wheels protesting.

“Where did you get that?” he asked Torean. “Why didn't you turn it on?”

“I got it on Denseev. It was in pieces, and I put it together. As for why I didn't turn it on, I didn't want it to explode in my room if I wired it wrong.”

Cassian snorted. “Yes, an exploding droid in the common area is _much_  better, clearly.”

He heaved a sigh and crossed to it. After a cursory visual inspection, he crouched and pressed the control to turn it on.

“I made a few modifications,” Torean said as it booted up.

The droid made the typical whirring trill of an astromech, then the domed head swivelled back and forth, the optical sensor finally settling on Cassian.

It focused, refocused. Then, “-bye.”

“You installed a vocoder into an astromech?” Cassian asked, bewildered.

The droid let out a string of beeps, then demanded, “What idiot put me in this glorified trash can?!”

Cassian toppled backwards, landing on his butt on the tile floor. He stared at the droid for a long, wide-eyes moment. “... Kay?!”

“Cassian! What have they done to me? What-” It stopped, dome spinning in silence. “We're alive. I presume my body was damaged beyond repair.”

“Rather,” Jyn said, as she brought her mug over. “Hullo, Kay.”

Kay looked at her, then back to Cassian. “Why am I in an astromech?”

Torean crouched in front of it, beside his brother. “That part was my doing. It was all I could get hold of. But Jyn was the mastermind in bringing you back.”

Kaytoo’s sensor rotated her way again, regarding her in silence. “Thank you, Jyn Erso.”

“Ah… You're welcome.”

Cassian's shock was wearing off, and he found himself grinning broadly. “Thank you,” he said to Jyn, then his brother.

Jyn stood behind him as he shifted to his knees. “We climbed,” she told Kay. “We broadcast the plans to the fleet. Almost didn't make it off. Cassian was hurt, but he's alright now.”

Torean rapped his knuckles on his artificial leg. “I lost my leg.”

Kaytoo looked around the room. “This is not Yavin. My temperature readings indicate a colder climate. Where are we?”

“Lah'mu,” Cassian told him. It was so good to hear his friend’s voice again, even if it was coming from an astromech. “It's on the other side of the galaxy. We've been here about seven months.”

Kay absorbed that in silence. “And the Death Star?”

“Gone,” Jyn said. She had a touch of defiance in her voice as she added, “My father's plan worked. There was an exhaust port that went straight to the reactor. One proton torpedo and the entire thing exploded.”

Kay had doubted her, after she'd told them all of the message. He'd mocked her, as much as a droid could mock someone. Cassian smothered a smile.

“I see. And who executed that blow?” the droid asked.

“Luke Skywalker.” Cassian smiled wryly. “You don't know him. He came to the Rebellion after rescuing Princess Leia when she was captured.”

“And how long ago was Scarif?” Kay asked. “Did anyone else survive?”

“Scarif was almost nine months ago,” Cassian told him. “And no. You, me, and Jyn are the only ones.”

“Oh. That's a shame. I rather liked Bodhi.” Kay looked at Jyn again. “Are you aware you have a parasite in your lower intestines?”

Cassian slapped a hand over his face as Torean burst out laughing.

Jyn snorted. “Please don't scan me,” she said to the droid, narrowing her eyes. “It's rude.”

“By your lack of surprise, I take it that you are aware of the infestation.”

Torean had to sit down, nearly shoving a hand in his mouth as he choked with laughter. Cassian shot him a dirty look.

“No,” he told the droid, “Jyn doesn't have a parasite. She's pregnant.”

Kay considered this for a few seconds. “A human embryo is, by definition, a parasite. Who is the father?”

Wheezing now, face red, Torean gasped, “This is the funniest thing I've seen in months!”

Jyn reached over and smacked him on the top of the head. “Shut up.”

Cassian sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I am, Kay. Please don't call my child a parasite.”

The optical sensor pinged back and forth between Jyn and Cassian. “I thought she wanted to kill you.”

“That,” Jyn told him, “was a long time ago. Actually, Cassian and I…”

“We're married,” her husband finished for her. He still felt a swell of happiness at the statement. Honestly, Cassian had expected to die so long ago. To have a wife, a child on the way, was still so new and moving to him.

Kaytoo made a sound that was probably a robotic sigh. “I get deactivated and everything goes to hell.”


	6. Chapter 6

Cassian spent the next few days with Kay in every spare moment. Jyn didn't begrudge him it; before her, K-2SO had been his only friend, besides his brother. She got the feeling that Cassian and Torean had actually drifted apart in recent years, her husband with his intelligence work and her brother-in-law with Blue Squadron and his relationship with the now-deceased General Antoc Merrick. Kaytoo had been Cassian's best friend, in a way she wasn't.

Still, she couldn't help a smidge of jealousy. Jyn didn't have a miraculously resurrected friend. She hadn't, in fact, had someone to call her friend since she'd been five. There’d been acquaintances in Saw’s cadre, but she'd been so afraid of being abandoned again that she hadn't let anyone get close.

Until Cassian. Cassian was all she had. True, she was friendly with Torean, but it wasn't the same. She didn't feel like she was truly friends with him. She'd thought, briefly, that she could be friends with Bodhi, or Baze and Chirrut. But they were gone.

Sitting at the table, poking at the lunch Cassian had made for her--something he'd called chilaquiles, whatever that was--she watched as he interacted with Kaytoo, the droid still adjusting to his new, much shorter form. His old body had stood well over two metres tall. This one maybe topped a single metre, and to add insult to injury, had no arms.

To add insult to further insult, they'd discovered--to Cassian's constant hilarity--that something in his wiring had crossed and whenever Kay tried to swear, it came out as a string of beeps, tweedles, and boops.

“I can't reach the _beeeeeeep_  panel, Cassian, how can I help fix this _tweeeee boop_  comm system if I can't access the _bleeeep_ \- Really, this is absolutely _weeep_ \- I give up! AND STOP LAUGHING!”

Cassian was doubled over, face red and tears streaming down his face, leaning on the island in the kitchen, shaking with helpless laughter. Jyn hadn't seen him laugh like that in far too long, not since Janson’s Ewok prank. Privately, she thought her husband's laughter was worth Kaytoo’s frustration.

Kay turned in a huff and went to sulk on the other side of the room. It was a small house and he had no real place to retreat to. Strange to feel sorry for a droid, but she did.

“We really need to find him a more suitable body,” she told Cassian.

“How? Where?” he asked. “Getting him in the first place was incredibly lucky. Getting a second security droid would be next to impossible.”

She picked up her water glass and eyed him over it. “So was getting off Scarif,” she reminded him.

“... Point taken.”

The chime at the door sounded. He straightened, throwing her a curious look, and went to answer it.

A tall woman with a cascade of black curls stood outside, dressed warmly but casually, hands in the pockets of her coat. She smiled at Cassian. “Gonna invite me in, or do you want to explain to Kes why you let me freeze out here?”

Cassian stepped aside to let Shara Bey in. “I definitely don't want that,” he said dryly. “I don't know if they'd find all my parts.”

She grinned. “You're smart. Hey, Jyn!”

Jyn waved from her seat at the table. Maybe, she found herself thinking, she wasn't as friendless as she'd thought. Shara wasn't the type she'd found herself acquainting with in the past, but she seemed to want to spend time with Jyn, so that was something. And she liked the woman's husband, Kes Dameron, too.

Shara moved past Cassian and threw herself into one of the four chairs at the table. “Are those chilaquiles?” she asked, with something akin to awe in her voice. “Kes used to make those, but hasn't in forever.”

Without waiting for a reply, she snatched one off Jyn's plate.

Wryly, Jyn said, “Help yourself.”

“Sorry.” Shara had the grace to look chagrined. “I'm so karking starving all the time lately. It's ridiculous.”

“Better than me,” Jyn said. “I have almost no appetite and I'm tired all the time.”

“I heard through the gossip channels that you're grounded for illness,” Shara said. “What's up?”

“Nothing that won't clear up in a few months. About seven, to be exact.”

Shara paused with a fried tortilla chunk almost to her mouth. “No,” she said, dark copper eyes wide. “Really?!”

Jyn found herself grinning. She glanced to Cassian, saw his answering smile. Force knew she was still nervous about it all, but each passing day made it a little easier. He hadn't gone running at the idea. She wasn't alone in this.

“Really. I'm due at the start of next winter, which is annoying, but I'll have a perfect excuse to stay inside and out of the snow.”

Cassian snorted. He passed behind her chair and dropped a kiss on the top of her head. Jyn felt her smile soften. He wasn't openly affectionate outside the house, neither of them were. And part of her was still getting used to even having someone to be affectionate with.

“That's great,” Shara said. “Kes and I have talked about kids, but only in the abstract. We barely even see each other. Last time I did was three weeks ago, and I don't expect to see him again for at least two months.”

Jyn shook her head. She couldn't imagine living that life. Since they'd first met, Cassian had always been there. It had made the start of their relationship intense and fast, and maybe that spelled doom for others, but the two of them just seemed to know each other so well. They fought, true, but not with screaming matches and slammed doors. It was more what she'd call a spirited discussion, and even that was rare. Neither of them took what they had for granted. They'd both grown up lonely, raised by strangers. Family was precious.

“I couldn't do that. Cassian is my partner. Except for his last mission, we go together or not at all.”

She dragged the plate back and picked up a tortilla. Shredded nerf and bantha milk cheese and cream liberally covered the fried flat bread. Jyn wasn't really hungry, but knew she needed to eat.

“Kes and I have also talked a little about what we'd like to do if we make it out of this,” Shara continued. “If we win. I'd like to go back to Yavin, maybe, or another warmer planet, set up a house there. Move my dad there. He's currently with the tiny group of Alderaan’s survivors.”

“You're from Alderaan?” Jyn asked.

“No. My grandmother was, but she moved to Bellassa, where she met my grandfather. I joined the Rebellion because there was a resistance on Bellassa, led by some locals, Ferus Olin and Roan Lands. My family wasn't part of it, but a stormtrooper shot my mom and my grandparents. All they were doing was getting vegetables at the market. So it was me and Dad until I met Kes.”

Cassian came back through with his bag, coat in hand. “I am going back to the base. I'll be home in time for dinner.”

“I hope you don't plan on me cooking,” his wife quipped.

“... I will be home to make dinner.”

After he'd left, it was just her, Shara, and the still-muttering Kaytoo.

“So Cassian's the domestic one, huh?” Shara asked curiously.

Jyn snorted. “I know how to fire any blaster. I'm trained in at least six different forms of hand to hand combat. I'm an excellent marksman. I can slice, I can assemble explosives. I even have some skill with mechanical repair, even if I'm rusty. But I can't cook. Ask me to shoot a wild exoboar, I can take one down at a hundred metres, then gut and dress it and roast it on a spit. Use a proper stove or food prepper for anything other than instant meals? I burn everything.”

Shara’s laugh was a bright peal of sound as she threw her head back. “That's great.”

“I'm also not great with piloting. I can do it if I have to, but I really don't feel comfortable steering tons of metal onto landing platforms.”

“So Cassian does the flying and cooking, and you do the shooting and pummelling.” The taller woman took another chip from the plate. “Which is extra funny because you're so…”

“Short? At least I'm taller than Leia.”

Shara snorted. “That's true. Oh, hey, I almost forgot why I came over. There's a party on the base tonight. Nothing big or official, just off-duty people needing a bit of fun. You and Cassian interested in coming? I mean, you don't have to, especially if you're not feeling well. But the invitation is open.”

Jyn sipped at her water. “I'll think about it.”

“Good. I gotta run, I'm in charge of training a new recruit. Hope to see you tonight. It's at 2100 hours, in that old warehouse they converted to the rec centre.”

Shara let herself out. Jyn set her glass down on the table and sighed. “Rebellions,” she said to herself, “are built on hope.”

\-----

She took a short nap, waking once more with cold hands and a vague memory of dark tunnels, that lingering unease that had been plaguing her sleep for the past few nights. She hadn't mentioned it to Cassian yet. He'd probably tell her it was memories of spending so long in the bunker in the cave, waiting for someone to come for her.

But this was different. She'd had a lamp in the bunker, and while she'd been wet and miserable, she hadn't felt chilled like ice. And anyway, the bunker was a straight shaft down into a three-by-three-metre room, not endless dark tunnels.

Stretching as she sat up, Jyn decided to try the meditation Luke had attempted to teach her. He was a good kid, but it was clear he knew only a little about the Jedi and about using the Force. She wasn't thrilled about the idea of being a Jedi, didn't even know it was possible, but if she could learn to use the Force even a little bit as well as Chirrut had…

Secretly, she was hoping that meditation, here on the planet where her mother had died, would let her talk to her again. Especially now, with her own child growing inside her, she wanted to talk to Lyra, even if just for a minute. She knew Cassian was skeptical, cynical, but after Luke's words, Jyn was convinced she really had seen Lyra Erso on Dressel, on that lake shore.

Sitting cross-legged on the bed, she closed her eyes, hands resting folded in her lap. It was difficult to clear her mind. She wasn't a person inclined to stillness, and stopping the rush of thoughts in her head was like herding lothcats.

She slowly let out her breath as she tried to relax. What would Chirrut have told her, she wondered?

_”I am one with the Force and the Force is with me.”_

Jyn smiled at the faint whisper, and repeated the mantra in a whisper. Then again. With each repetition, she felt tension drain and everything else begin to fade. With her eyes closed, it was a peaceful darkness.

Then, in the darkness, a tiny spark of pure, white light. As Jyn sank deeper, senses unconsciously expanding, she followed that light. As she got closer, she thought it felt familiar, like a voice she'd known once but couldn't place.

All at once, Jyn realised, and it startled her out of her meditation. She sucked in a breath, hands going to flatten over her pubic bone.

“Hi, little one,” she murmured. In that moment, all of her fear had fled. Jyn had touched the little life growing within her, just for a moment, and it had been incredible beyond words. “I wish I could share this with your papa. He's very excited about you. I'm getting there. But don't worry. I love you already. I just don't know what the future will bring us, and I'm worried.”

The bedroom door, which she hadn't quite shut when she'd gone to lie down, opened as Kaytoo wheeled in.

“I heard you speaking. Did you need assistance, Jyn?”

She smiled at the droid. “No, Kay, I'm alright. Just talking to my baby.”

If he'd had a human face, he probably would have lifted a sardonic brow. “You are approximately thirty-five days pregnant,” he said. “At this stage, your embryo’s heart is beating but it lacks even a rudimentary brain and no ears, so it cannot hear you or understand you.”

Jyn shook her head. “I know that, Kay. What did you do, download a pregnancy manual off the holonet?”

“I thought it wise. Though I would be more help if I possessed functional limbs.”

“Yes, we'll work on that. We wanted to get you back with us as soon as we could.”

The droid was quiet for a long time, at least for him. “Thank you, Jyn, for your part. You didn't need to.”

“Yes, I did. I know you don't like me, but you're Cassian's friend and he's missed you terribly.”

She climbed off the bed and went into the living area, where she booted up the computer the techs had brought by. Kaytoo rolled over to watch.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Since I'm not on active duty,” she said, “because of my morning sickness, I'm going through all of my father's files from our time here, so we can sort out the useful information of his farming experiments and build on that, when winter finally ends and we can start planting in the spring. It will save a lot of trial and error.”

“The galactic standard calendar is fifty days shorter than the rotation of this planet,” he informed her. “Approximately how many months does winter last?”

“Too long, Cassian says. It's four months, supposedly, but it's always cold and wet here. We got here towards the end of summer. Each season here lasts about twenty weeks, not that there's much difference between anything other than winter. It's pretty much months of snow and then months of rain. Summer means it gets warmer for a few weeks.”

Kay said, “Then I'm glad for now not to have joints that could corrode.”

She laughed. “We could see about getting you some arms. General Syndulla’s astromech has some on his dome.”

“Chopper,” Kay said flatly. “Annoying little miscreant. I take comfort knowing I'm still taller than him, even if by only a decimetre.”

Since that sentiment echoed her earlier comment about being taller than Leia, she just patted him lightly on the dome and went to work.

\-----

When Cassian got home, he found Jyn still at the computer, sorting through her father's journals. Kay stood by, the two of them talking.

“-a good thing,” Kay was saying as he came in. “A fall from that height would have killed you instantly.”

“Yes. My hands hurt for weeks after.”

“A fall from what height?” Cassian asked, as he hung up his coat.

“The top of the citadel tower,” Kay said. “Jyn says she almost fell off of it.”

He made a face. He knew, and the thought gave him nightmares. She'd pulled herself back up moments before he'd managed to climb to the top himself.

“I'm glad you didn't fall,” he told her.

"So am I.” She marked her place in the file and closed it, pushing away from the console to stand. “Shara invited us to a party on base tonight.”

He studied her carefully, as her tone hadn't told him if she was interested. “Do you want to go?”

His wife shrugged. “I've been considering it. I think Shara is lonely without Kes. And I thought it wouldn't hurt to make nice. We still aren't sure if there's a mole.”

Kaytoo’s optical sensor glowed red as it shifted between them. “Mole? What mole?”

Cassian sighed. “The Empire somehow connected Jyn Erso with her Liana Hallik alias. I didn't tell Team Bravo who Liana Hallik really was, and all but one of that team--two, now, with you back--died at Scarif, before the leak. So it's someone who was there to connect Jyn with Liana the day she arrived on Yavin.”

The droid’s processors worked for a few seconds. “Those individuals are you, General Draven, General Dodonna, Chief of State Mon Mothma, and the communications personnel in the war room at the time. I assume you've been monitoring them?”

He nodded tightly. “For months. I told Mon Mothma my suspicions. I know it isn't her. She hates the Empire and she likes Jyn.”

Jyn snorted. “Then why did she try to kick me off Yavin?”

“It was a test disguised as a reprimand,” her husband said. “I'm not happy about it, either, but she told me later that she wanted to know your real reason for staying. She's a politician. It's what they do. Besides, everyone on base knows Jyn and I are married, and the Empire hasn't changed the bounty to Jyn Andor. It's still Erso, which means they don't know about the change yet.”

“If you have seen no sign of external communications from the Rebellion,” Kay cut in, “what else are you considering?”

“Krennic might still be alive,” Jyn said. “I told him my name just before Cassian shot him. We took his shuttle, so I don't know how he could have gotten away before the Death Star destroyed Scarif.”

“Krennic.” Kaytoo paused, accessing his memory banks. “Krennic, Orson Callan. Director. Rank equal to admiral. In charge of special projects and weapons development.”

“That's him. He was going to shoot me. He didn't. He was still unconscious, or should have been, when we got on the lift.” Jyn frowned, crossed her arms over chest. “Unless he called the lift while we were retrieving Kay’s head, and took one of those cargo shuttles on the lower platform… But the Death Star nearly killed us as we were taking off.”

“My information is incomplete,” Kay told them, “so I cannot properly calculate the likelihood of his escape. Yours was approximately 0.12%. His would be even less.”

Cassian heaved a sigh. He hadn't noticed movement from the other shuttles, and at least one had been crushed by debris when the Death Star’s beam had taken out the communications dish. But, admittedly, he'd been struggling to pilot the ship and not keel over from his injuries. He'd been distracted.

“We'll continue checking out the mole lead,” he said. “But for now, let's just worry about tonight. What time is this thing?”

“2100,” Jyn said.

“Alright. You take a break and lie down. I'll make some food.”


	7. Chapter 7

They weren't at the party long. Jyn hung out with Shara while Cassian mingled. She wasn't drinking, but he had enough to be a little buzzed by the time they left. Torean stayed, and signs indicated he'd find somewhere else to spend the night, with the way he'd cozied up to a pilot from Gold Squadron.

They briefly greeted Kay, who had hooked into the computer terminal and was occupying himself with something, as Cassian pulled her through the house to their room. She had to laugh when he kicked the door shut and started kissing her neck.

Jyn's libido wasn't what it had been before, but she wasn't going to waste a moment with Cassian. Sensing she needed warming up, he went slow.

Later, Jyn jerked out of sleep, that same dream of dark tunnels. She shivered, holding her freezing hands against her chest.

“Jyn?”

Cassian lay on his side, facing her, propped on an elbow. He'd turned on the bedside lamp and the warm light softened the lines of his face but didn't erase his concern. He reached over and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.

“You're having nightmares,” he stated. “What are you dreaming?”

“I'm cold,” she complained. “Every time I wake up, my hands are like ice.”

Her husband caught her hand, folding it in his. “They feel warm to me.”

Jyn shook her head. “I can't feel my fingertips.”

“You're shivering. Come here.” Cassian pulled her close, dragging the thick, warm blanket over them both to make a cocoon. She relaxed against the bare skin of his chest, quickly growing drowsy.

“Tunnels,” she murmured. “So dark. And cold.”

“We'll take you to see Cilghal tomorrow,” he said softly. “Sleep. I'll keep you warm.”

She pressed her face into his neck. “Forgot to tell you,” Jyn mumbled. “Felt the baby today.”

Cassian's arms tightened. “Did you?”

“Mm-hmm. Not scared anymore.”

“Good. That's good. Go back to sleep. You can tell me about it in the morning.”

\-----

If Cassian were really honest with himself, he'd admit that the idea of Jyn being Force sensitive frightened him. He claimed not to believe in it, and the Jedi, despite apparently encountering one when he was small, still seemed largely mythical. Luke Skywalker didn't count. He was a boy who barely knew anything.

The thought of Jyn having Force visions was something else entirely. It was a whole world he couldn't see or touch, and that alone was scary. If Palpatine or Vader learned Jyn was Force sensitive, he could lose her very swiftly and horribly.

At Jyn's exam, the Mon Calamari healer named Cilghal scanned her and said that there was nothing wrong with his wife. She was in the prime of health, and their baby was doing perfectly.

She even let them listen to the tiny beat of its heart, which sounded to Cassian like the wings of a tiny bird he'd seen on Yavin. Her pregnancy hadn't seemed real until then, not completely, but he suddenly knew why she had been scared.

They had lunch at the mess hall on base, sitting by themselves in the corner. Jyn poked at her food, frowning at the unidentifiable vegetable paste and reconstituted “iagoin steak”, which looked more like a brown, grilled version of the veggie paste.

“I know it isn't appetising, but you should eat,” he said.

She looked up, humour crinkling the corners of her green eyes. He could, he'd long ago decided, spend eternity looking in those eyes. “I've had worse,” she said. “Learned early not to fuss over food. And the stuff on Wobani… made rations look gourmet.”

Cassian chuckled. “That bad?”

“There were days I thought I'd rather eat a live rat. No, I was just wondering about the dreams. They started about when I found out I'm pregnant. But I don't know what they mean. As far as I know, I've never been in tunnels like that in my whole life. And the sense of despair and misery is just … overwhelming. Loneliness, grief. Even when my mother died, I didn't feel that abandoned.”

“I don't know,” he said. Cassian swallowed a mouthful of caf. He spotted Wes Janson across the hall, remembered he hadn't had his revenge for the Ewok yet. “I hope it's nothing that will happen in the future.”

His wife gave a full-body shudder. “Stang, I hope not.”

She took a few more bites of food, apparently deciding the protein patty was inedible, and shoved her plate away. “I'm thinking Galen.”

Cassian turned back to her, frowning in confusion. “Hmm?”

Jyn made a small noise of annoyance at his inattentiveness. “For the baby. If it's a boy. Galen. Unless… I couldn't possibly choose someone who went to Scarif with us, but… Did you want to use your father’s name?”

He shook his head. “Not really. Torean already has his name. Torean Dacio Andor.”

She made a speculative sound. “You've never told me their names.”

“Dacio and Seren. He was a Fest native. I don't know where she came from. She didn't speak the language well. I have only vague memories of them now.”

She shifted in her seat. “You're angry with them.”

Cassian considered arguing, but realised she was right. Probably because she'd been angry at her parents for so long. It was funny how they'd had such different and yet similar childhoods. It was probably why they knew each other so well. They had from the beginning, really.

“A little,” he admitted. “I'm angry that they died and left us alone, to be raised by strangers. The family that took us in did the best they could, but they weren't ours.”

She reached over and took his hands. Hers were smaller, but not what he'd call delicate. They were callused, scarred, the nails short. She had a few hangnails, and a scratch across two knuckles, scabbed and mostly healed. Cassian knew her palms bore the scars of Scarif, just as he knew every other mark on her body.

“We won't do that to our child,” she said quietly. “I refuse to put a cause first. Not this time.”

He threaded his fingers through hers. The metal of her wedding ring was warm against the pads of his fingertips. He'd had it made from a piece of the Death Star, and wore a matching band on his own finger.

The Death Star had been her father's greatest achievement and his greatest shame. He'd designed a deliberate flaw into it, as well as the means to reach it, and given that information to the Rebellion. Then Cassian and Jyn had retrieved those plans, sent them to the Rebellion. They'd both nearly died. Did it count as putting the cause before family if they hadn't been one yet, if it had only been family that had let them do it in the first place?

Cassian decided it didn't matter. Jyn especially had lost her family to the Empire, both parents and adoptive father. He'd told her he'd lost everything, but he'd gained so much since that argument on Eadu, when she'd accused him of betraying her.

“What are you thinking, Cass?” Jyn asked.

“I'm thinking about family. Our family. The day we met… I had no idea what would come from that meeting. The man I was then is not the man I am now. I'd like to think I'm better than he was.”

She smiled. “You've always been a good man to me. Even when I wanted to shoot you.”

He laughed. “I'm sure there will be times when you want to shoot me again.”

“Maybe when the baby comes.” She stood up and picked up their trays. He knew better than to argue with her about that. He liked having all of his appendages.

Jyn took care of the trays while he finished his caf. She swayed on her feet, grabbing a nearby chair, as she turned from the trash receptacle. Cassian was instantly on his feet and across the short distance.

“Are you alright?”

“Just a little dizzy. It happens.”

“Let's get you home.”

She really must have not been feeling well, because she didn't argue. As they walked back to the house, his arm around her to keep her steady, Cassian said, “I like Galen. If it's a boy.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He got them into the house and helped her out of her coat and boots. Then he made her some tea. Cassian looked around the room as she drank it, noting their lack of furniture and the general state of the place.

“We need a couch,” he said. “And a crib. You can't sit in these hard chairs all the time, and the baby will need a place to sleep.”

She smiled at him over the rim of her mug. “We have time. But the light in the ‘fresher should come first.”

“Is it acting up again?”

Jyn nodded.

He left her to drink her tea and went into the small refresher. He had to stand on the closed toilet lid to reach the light, which was flickering. The twinge in his side that had never really left him, when he'd been shot on Scarif and fallen from the data tower--hitting two support beams and cracking six ribs--protested as he raised his arms to adjust the light fixture.

It struck him, as he pried the cover off, how domestic it was. He could almost pretend they weren't in the Rebellion, fighting a war against a terrible enemy. Just a family starting out, with no bigger worries than fixing the light in the ‘fresher and what to name their baby.

Almost.

The Empire was looking for Jyn. She was Force sensitive and carrying his child. Cassian didn't want to think about it, but the reality was that there was a very real chance the enemy would find them, as it had found Jyn's family before, and would rip them apart.

His hands trembled as he set the cover aside and pulled out his multitool.

No. He wouldn't let that happen. They'd run first, into the Unknown Regions if necessary. The Rebellion that had been his life for so long was secondary now.

Cassian's hands steadied as he settled on his decision.

Ten minutes later, after fixing the loose wiring, he came out to find Jyn lost in her father's notes. She'd never admit it, pretending it was boring, but he knew it made her feel closer to Galen Erso.

“Light’s fixed,” he announced.

Then, “Where is Kay?”

\-----

An hour later, the droid returned, with Han Solo of all people.

“Your droid is almost as obnoxious as Threepio,” the smuggler informed them. “But at least he has a sense of humour. I like that. Can I trade you this one for Goldenrod?”

Jyn looked up from the datapad she was reading, needing a break from her work. “No. He's ours.”

“Didn't think so. Worth a shot.” Han looked around the house, but whatever his thoughts were about it, he kept them to himself. “Kaytoo told me you need furniture. I'm guessin’ that isn't something you can requisition from the higher ups.”

Cassian, leaning against the island with crossed arms and an annoyed scowl, said, “Not really. We're still rebuilding a lot after Scarif. The loss of Alderaan cut a lot of our funds.”

Jyn glanced his way. Her husband didn't like Han; he'd mentioned the smuggler breaking his nose, but had never elaborated. “We just need a sofa, really, or more comfortable chairs. I'm not sure why Kay went to talk to you about it, though.”

“I'm about to take the Falcon on a supply run,” Han said.

“I heard about it on the main communications channel this morning,” Kaytoo said. “I thought you might wish to speak to Captain Solo about acquiring the needed sofa and crib.”

Han’s eyebrows nearly met his hairline. “Whoa, whoa, wait a minute. Crib?”

Jyn nodded, even as she shot the droid a dark look. He'd never had facial expressions, but he'd had some body language. As an astromech, there was nothing. Still, she somehow knew he was unapologetic. “Yes. But that's something I want to get myself. Maybe the next time Cassian and I leave the base. I'm grounded for the time being, and Cassian's moved into data analysis for as long as I'm on light duty.”

Solo scratched the back of his neck. “Uh. Congratulations, I guess. Yeah, I'll see about a sofa. Looks like you could use chairs or somethin’, too.”

“Anything you could find would be great,” Jyn said, since Cassian was stubbornly silent. “We'll pay you.”

The smuggler snorted. “If you're gettin’ paid as much as I am, you can't pay much. I'll just add it to what the Alliance owes me.”

His parting shot as he left was, “Sorry about the nose, Andor. But I think you look better this way.”

Jyn had to chuckle as she locked the door behind him. Cassian pulled her into his arms, irritation radiating off of him. “He's right, you know,” she told him.

“About us being broke?”

“That. But I like your nose.” She reached up to run a finger over the crooked bridge. “Keeps you from being disgustingly perfect.”

He snorted and hugged her closer. “I don't like him.”

“So you've said. But you've never told me why.”

“Well, it was about five years ago…”


	8. Chapter 8

Han Solo returned a week later with an ugly but strangely comfortable couch and two mismatched armchairs. He also had a crate with him, not large. He looked a little embarrassed by it.

“This, uh… It's a gift. Probably not what you want in the long run, but I hope it'll work for now,” he said, as Cassian and Chewbacca, Solo’s Wookiee copilot, shifted the couch around.

Arching a brow, Jyn unfastened the clamps holding the lid on and removed it. The inside was filled with shredded flimsi and fabric scraps. She dug through it, and then stopped when her fingers touched wood.

“Cassian,” she called. “Come here.”

Her husband came over, clearly grateful for a break from wrestling furniture. “What is it?”

“Leia helped,” Han said. “With the blankets and stuff. But I found that in this little antique shop on Raxik Prime. Owner gave it to us in exchange for running off a couple Rodians that had been giving her trouble.”

Inside the crate, nestled in the packing material, was a carved wooden cradle. Cassian lifted it out of the crate and set it on the table. It had a base for rocking, and the side had sturdy hooks. Jyn touched them, looked to Han with a curious frown.

He shrugged. It was Cassian who said, “Those are for attaching the cradle to the side of a bed frame. It keeps the baby in reach and off the cold floor. My foster mother had one. But this… this is a lot older than hers. Hers was made of plastic and durasteel.”

The carvings were intricate, constellations and swirls of what could have been nebula clouds. The wood was dark with age, but it was solidly built.

“Thank you,” she told Han sincerely. “This is beyond beautiful.”

He shrugged, looking uncharacteristically bashful. “You're the only ones I know having a baby.”

Cassian offered his hand to the older man. It was only an age difference of a few years, and strangely, Cassian seemed the elder of the two. They shook, and then Han excused himself. Chewie followed, after giving the couch a last shove into place.

Jyn was entranced by the cradle. “Cassian… the designs are stardust. You're the only one who knows that name.”

He wrapped his arms around her from behind, dropping his chin onto her shoulder. “What was it Chirrut said? All is as the Force wills it?”

She leaned back against him and sighed.

The door opened, admitting Torean, Kaytoo, and a fierce gust of icy wind. “I just saw Solo leaving- We have a couch! Wizard!”

“That is the least aesthetically pleasing arrangement of furniture I have ever seen. And that chair is in my corner. It needs to move.”

Cassian pressed his face against Jyn's shoulder, shaking with silent laughter.

“Don't worry, Kay,” Jyn said. “We'll move it. Tor, come see what Han gave us.”

\-----

Jyn didn't know what of Saw’s tales of Anakin Skywalker was real and what had been embellished to entertain a lost, grieving, homesick child. She related them all to Luke, with ample warning about the dubiousness of their veracity. He didn't care. He drank it all in like a thirsty man at an oasis.

It wasn't until she'd been “training” with him for three weeks that she brought up her continuing dreams of the tunnels and the cold.

“And the healers say there's no medical cause for your cold hands?”

Jyn shook her head. “It's nearly every time I sleep. Cassian says my hands aren't cold, but they're almost numb, and they ache. It almost feels like spending hours rubbing them on rough ice or something.”

The young pilot frowned. “I have no idea. Nothing Ben said touched on anything like that. And all the lore is gone. The Emperor and Vader destroyed it all. Ben said there were archives and libraries and so much else lost.”

Jyn pictured Scarif, Jedha. “Yes,” she murmured. “The Empire is good at that.”

He was quiet for a long moment. They were seated on the new-to-them couch, with the crate as a table. Jyn had put it to use storing what linens she'd salvaged of her mother's. Not everything had been destroyed. Just a lot of it.

“Have you made much progress with your meditation?”

Jyn grimaced. “I have trouble getting everything out of my head. But I managed to feel the baby a few weeks ago.”

“That's good!” He smiled. “But you know what I think?”

“What?”

“You're afraid.”

She tried not to bristle, failed miserably. “Afraid of what?” she demanded. “I'm not afraid!”

Luke held up his hands with a smile. “No, in general, I'm pretty sure you're not. But you're afraid of the Force. Afraid to really believe. Afraid of what it means and what it could change.”

Jyn leaned back, arms folded, eyes fixed on the “table” and not on him. How was some nineteen or twenty year old kid from some horrid backwater planet so good at reading people? But she thought he was right. Maybe. Probably.

“The Force was… My mother believed, but in secret. Chirrut believed openly, wholeheartedly. The Jedi believed. And it didn't save any of them. They're all still dead. I don't… see what use the Force is.”

Luke's smile turned wry. “Really? You don't see the times it's saved you? How it brought you and Cassian together?”

“Did it?” she asked.

“All the agents the Alliance has out there, keeping an eye on the Empire, you really think it was just coincidence that it was Cassian who ended up finding you? How did he even find you, anyway, connect Liana Hallik with Jyn Erso?”

She realised she was clutching her crystal, loosened her grip but didn't let go. “He said he followed a hunch with good investigative work.”

“In less than a month? With as deep as you'd buried your real identity?” Luke shook his head. “Cassian isn't Force sensitive. Neither is Han. I think Leia might be, but she won't let me talk to her about it. But I think the Force led Cassian to you. I think the Force put Han on Tattooine right when Obi-Wan and I needed him.”

Jyn just frowned, turning the kyber crystal in her hand.

“I think that's enough to think on for a while.” Luke stood, stretched. “I'll be off-planet for a few weeks, Dodonna’s sending my squadron to escort Mon Mothma to Chandrila. She got word her mother is dying.”

“Oh. Um. Tell her I'm sorry. If you talk to her.”

“I will.”

He left. Jyn twisted to bring her bare feet up on the seat, wrapping her arms around her knees.

Luke had probably meant it to be comforting, suggesting the Force had brought her and Cassian together. But it wasn't, not right then. She didn't like the idea of being a pawn, even to some mystical, omnipotent, invisible energy. She was tired of being a tool to someone else's cause.

Cassian came out of the bedroom. He'd changed into sleep pants and a soft shirt. “Luke leave?”

“Yeah. A few minutes ago.”

He beckoned to her. “Come to bed, then. You can worry about whatever it is I see on your face in the morning.”

Jyn sighed and pushed up to her feet. Her stomach felt a little sour, but not enough that she thought she might throw up soon. She was really tired of that happening.

Cassian took her hand and guided her into their room. She glanced at the cradle at the foot of their bed, with its soft, pale green bedding. A warmth settled in her chest, driving away the queasiness.

“What are you thinking, love?” he asked.

“Luke said that he thinks the Force brought you and me together. That it led you to me. I don't know if that's true. And I realised just now that even if it did, it doesn't matter. It didn't *make* me fall in love with you. Whether it gave you a nudge, or dragged you by the scruff of your neck right to me, it doesn't matter. It doesn't change this. It doesn't change us. And even if I'm terrified of what using the Force could bring… We already faced the Death Star and lived. Together.”

“I think we can face it all,” he told her softly. “Together.”

Jyn let him pull her to the bed then, wrapping her in his arms. It was, she decided, the safest place in the galaxy.

\-----

Hundreds of lightyears away, on the edges of Hutt space, the prisoner picked with numb fingers through the rock shards he knelt amongst, retrieving the strands of glitterstim that he couldn't see, could barely feel.

There was no light allowed down here in the tunnels. Light would activate and ruin the spice. He couldn't wear gloves, because he couldn't feel the fibres without bare skin. But it was so cold, so achingly cold, the air thin, pumped in artificially by the factories on the surface that constantly replaced the rapidly-vanishing atmosphere.

Beside him, a young boy held in a whimper and sniffled. The thing down in the dark had taken his parents just days ago. They'd been here only a few months, and now the boy was alone. He did what he could to look out for the child, but it was hard.

He barely remembered a time before the dark. Sometimes, he thought he remembered tentacles crawling on his skin. Others, he thought he remembered white sand. He couldn't remember heat anymore. Not really. Even in his bunk, the cold never really left.

The boy choked back a sob. The prisoner shifted closer, lending what little body heat he had and blocking the view of the guards with their night vision goggles.

“Rest,” he told the child. “I'll help you.”

He felt but couldn't see the boy nod.

“What's your name?” he asked.

“Kyp. Kyp Durron.” A sniffle. “Who’re you?”

Sometimes, he wondered that. That feeling felt old. From before the darkness and the cold.

“It's nice to meet you, Kyp. I'm Bodhi Rook.”


End file.
